Stay Within My Sights, Stay Living In My Dreams
by Strange Principles
Summary: SEQUEL TO IF I COULD JUST TOUCH YOUR WORLD UPON A WHISPER recommended you read that first. The Doctor's broken again, after their reunion... and what can Rose do about it? Involving heartbreak and tubes of glue, mirrors and soul eaters... Read and review
1. Prologue:: Free Entry

_**Author's Note: This sequel exists because of all the supportive people who reviewed 'If I could just Touch Your World Upon a Whisper'. Right now it's just a prologue, because I'm working on the plotline of this. However, if you are new to this:**_

_**READ THE PREQUEL, IF I COULD JUST TOUCH YOUR WORLD UPON A WHISPER!**_

**_This will lead to you understanding a lot more about this piece itself. I'm not sure exactly where to go with this, but as is with the last story, it will probably involve some angst, adventure, plenty of Doctor Who, and the odd humorous quirk here and there. Anyway, we'll see where it goes. Wish it luck! I recommend however, if you haven't read the above title, that you do. There are spoilers in this for my last story._**

_**Prologue**_

_The TARDIS engines splutter into life, with an eagerness that says that she too, is glad of the girl's presence. She has been so long, travelling with a lonely Doctor. A lonely man who had been ripped apart by the fact that not only had he lost the love of his life, he'd even failed to admit his dedication, even when SHE had her soul laid bare to him. Even when she'd travelled miles for two minutes that just worsened the pain. Now it's a new day, and sometimes at night, in the cloudy realm of dreams that wing their way through the night, singing can be heard. Ancient singing; lamenting, chanting, laughing – the lullaby of the TARDIS. Both the Doctor and SHE hears it, and revel in it. Because it means something that was prevented for seven lonely years. _

_Because now, the Doctor and Rose have been reunited against all odds, and they are whole again. But so is the TARDIS. She feels her, and her familiarity, unlike any other companion the Doctor has travelled with. Because the Doctor isn't one without a whole Rose; Rose isn't whole without her Doctor; and the TARDIS could never be complete without her Doctor being completely there. And that requires Rose. But she's more than just a requirement. Because the TARDIS loves her, too. _

_They are complete._

_She takes off through the stars, those twinkling pinpricks on the brink of reality, on the edge of dreaming. And she sings her happy song, and the Time Vortex grows strong._

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

He heard a whisper. Sensed a dream. Felt the world.

She shifted in her sleep, felt reality shake; heard the sounds of the universe…

The Doctor woke up from sleeping with his head against the top of the TARDIS. A button – a particularly _sharp_ button, in fact – left a mark in the middle of his eyes as he blinked away the flashes of a forgotten dream. The clouds of sleep left his mind and he rubbed the spot between his eyes, at the top of his nose. Blinking slightly, he looked around blankly, to the long pillar of the TARDIS, still in flight, still shaking with the sounds of the universe, to the wires that made a network beneath the floor, and finally to his sleeping companion who had drifted off with the sonic screwdriver in her hand, still on the armchair by the console.

For a moment, he just looked at her. His heart beamed. It had been a long time. She didn't look a day older than the day on the beach seven years ago. He still tried to figure out how that could be possible, but at the same time, he didn't particularly care. Because she was there; something he had fervently hoped and wished and dreamed for, for those torturous years without her.

How long had it been since the day she'd run into his arms? Since the day he'd grieved over her, stopped the war, and left her lying in a cold corridor on a distant planet? Days. Mere days. Part of him thought of it as the old times; back to normal. As normal as his life could be. And part of him, every time he saw her, said:

_This can't be real._

Because it was too good to be real.

Suddenly, the Doctor's life seemed a lot fuller. Checking the winding symbols upon the TARDIS monitor, he looked at the time and vaguely registered it to be very early in the morning. One o' clock. He looked at Rose, tilted his head to one side in thought, then nodded to himself before going over to the chair, picking her up, and walking one floor up.

He carried her through the network of passageways until he came to the room she occupied, where he lay her on the bed, stuffed a cuddly toy in her grasp, took the screw driver from her hand, and muttered to himself:

"Have _good_ dreams, Rose Tyler. Don't come back to reality too quickly. Enjoy them."

And he left the room. The door clicked shut.

In sleep, she was safe. In her dreams, nothing could hurt her. And when she came out of their safe refuge, he'd be waiting. And he'd be there to protect her.

The only problem was, not all dreams were _good. _

And nothing ensured that she would ever come _back_ to reality, anyway.

In the main floor of the TARDIS, near the console, the Doctor heard a whisper. Sensed a dream. Felt the world.

And Rose Tyler shifted in her sleep, felt reality shake; heard the sounds of the universe…

And the hell inside.

_**Author's Note: It's supposed to be short. It's a prologue. But seeing as it's my twin's computer day tomorrow, don't expect a soon update – well, least, not tomorrow, anyhow.**_

_**The next chapter will between five and seven pages long.**_

_**And it'll get better from here, whatever I come up with! Promise!**_

_**Also thanks to all the people who reviewed 'IICJTYWUAW' (got bored of typing the whole darn title):**_

_**Ravena storm, Jessa7, I-Confuse-everyone, Romana I, eeveekitty58, Italian-Gal06, pazaz of nothing, moonbeam, black sorceress, Radish Earrings, ganain-m, rommie-rules, saiyamar, Give My Socks Back, Ancient Galaxy, BookEnd, Fanficer Lore, Rusty4Coke, nornaj, Xxdoctorwho28fanxX, LarielRomeniel, Cassandra Sita Terra, lymony, dolly.the.sheep, Starlite 1, Annie Coomes, Stargazing Basketcase… and all those future reviewers! **_

_**Yours,**_

**_StrangePrinciples_**


	2. Taking Over:: Shards of The Mirror

_**Thanks to everyone who reviewed so far, and here comes the next chapter in what I hope is a highly anticipated …? Sequel :D. It isn't actually related that much to hell, if that's what you think. Yes. It will be happy. Yes. It will be sad. Yes, it will be as good as I can think and no, it won't be complete as soon as my last one. Sorry. I'm going on holiday for a week soon and won't update all through that time. Then it's my birthday, so I won't be then, either, and then it's likely I'll go to my grandma's house with no internet connection. However there will be days when I update in between so all hope is NOT lost. Anyhow, enjoy it while you can,**_

_**StrangePrinciples.**_

_**Taking Over…**_

_It didn't take yet. No. It wasn't quite ready for that. It wasn't going to gorge itself, take too much at a time. It was going to go slowly. Unnoticeably. Evade the people of myths and just take quietly… working outside reality… biting, ripping, destroying, possessing…_

… _Bit by bit…_

**XXX**

Rose looked up contentedly at the wide panelled ceiling, the blankness of the little room where she had awakened in, and she appreciated it. It wasn't much. And it was everything in the world.

It was the third day that Rose Tyler had woke, lying in the TARDIS. Lying in her home. Just four actual days since she had been sentenced to execution, lost all her hope and had it given back to her in the form of one lone figure: the Doctor. The two earrings lying in her ears weren't significant, but Rose treasured one in particular. The one _he_ had fixed especially for her. By hand. Just the day before.

She closed her eyes and just savoured the last minutes of sleep. The _old _Rose Tyler, the Rose Tyler that woke up every day at the crack of dawn to go to work in a shop, would have begged for five more minutes or slept in all day, if she had the choice. She didn't do that anymore. She just closed her eyes for a few seconds more, and then felt the anticipation of a new day with new adventures sink in.

She opened her eyes.

_Just for a moment, it flashed inside her, and it knew she'd sensed something. Whether outside or inside of her she couldn't tell. But it proceeded with caution nonetheless. It couldn't afford for her to find out anything. Not yet._

Blinking, Rose shook the sudden flash of emotion that had blossomed inside her, and raided her wardrobe for something to wear. It still amazed her that garments that had aged seven years in her absence were still there later. The Doctor had kept them in pristine condition. Or someone else. Maybe the TARDIS.

Yes, that fitted.

And so did the top she pulled out. Shrugging it over her shoulders she ran to the door and hauled it open, running to her everyday destination: the control room. Because that was where he waited, and that was where adventures begun their long journeys into the real world, where fantasies were extinguished to be brought by eager eyed beings into the universe of reality. Fantasies allowed people to dream. And whereas reality was oh so much more cruel and dispassionate, it allowed you to _live_.

"Mornin'," she crowed happily as she jumped on the back of the Doctor as he leant over the control panel. She let go and he turned around and smiled appreciatively. Just a little longer than her healing memory could register from the old days. Then he turned back, but the small gesture was still there, in the back of her head…

"So," he said. "Rose Tyler." Over exaggerating the syllables in Ty-ler. Appreciated. "Where do you want breakfast today?" Flick a lever. Familiar.

Rose Ty-_ler_ smiled, and pointed directly at him. "With _you_," she said, and poked him in the chest.

"Ow," he said absentmindedly, and then looked confused; incredulous, even. "We've got the whole of time and space at our feet and you just want breakfast with _me_?" He sounded like he wanted to laugh at it. But there was a real question in there.

Rose faked consideration for a second, but when she looked up, she realised he really was looking for an answer. His face was less happy, as if he doubted her answer. She nearly laughed.

"Yeah," she smiled, "guess so."

There was a silence where a satisfied grin just spread over the Doctor's face as he looked at her, through her. She smiled back. And then, just abruptly, came the inevitable question:

"So, cornflakes or coco pops?"

**XXX**

_It felt her happiness and didn't understand. It just ate away at her being, cut the mesh of her soul. It was making progress. It was close. But it needed to be careful. Always careful._

_But it wanted accomplishment of its goal, like a human needs to breathe air…_

_It ate…_

Rose blinked and held her head for a second. She winced as something cut, almost like it was being torn in her head. But it was gone in a second, and she wondered if it really had just been her imagination. Maybe an old memory?

She was ready to dismiss it. But the Doctor had other agendas, because when she opened her eyes, he was looking at her with a suspicious stare. That fixed face that he put on to tell people that he was doing what he was best at. Being Doctorish.

"What is it?"

"Head ache."

"Hmm…"

"Just because I get one twinge doesn't mean it's some kind of alien parasite leeching my brains out, Doctor," said Rose incredulously.

He sighed and put his hands in his pockets. "Whatever you say," he breathed, and turned around. Rose did, too, and took the time to appreciate what she saw before her. She knew that pure luck and circumstance must have favoured her, because one day, not so long ago, she could never have dreamt of seeing this horizon. A few days ago, she could never even have dreamt of seeing another horizon at all.

The sky was velvet, punctured by the gleam of reds and blues and whites; the stars and planets that dotted the horizon. Around Rose the air was warm and brushed against her like a feather might caress the ground as it is caught in the wind. There were trees on this planet; red trees, like the trees of earth as autumn falls. Rose felt an unspeakable happiness rise inside her. It wasn't everyone who could experience this. And now, after years of being away from it, she finally appreciated it. _Which made everything that little bit more special._

The Doctor took her hand, and she looked up at him. He gave her one of those mischievous smiles, the kind of smile that said he was going off to look for excitement. She followed after with a returned smile and an increased heart beat. It thumped against her chest, a lump of anticipation in her throat. She was new in the TARDIS all over again, wanting to see how far it could travel, see if the things before her were illusions or not. It had been too long _not_ to check such imperfections, because part of Rose panicked every time she closed her eyes to sleep, in case it was a dream, and as her eyelids closed, the dream would vanish.

But it hadn't. Not yet.

Running through the red trees with him, laughing as she crunched through the carpet of leaves. That was life. Not looking at her phone wistfully, thinking:

_If I could just phone them…_

No doubt it had the abilities. But what to say…

"_Hi, mum. Just to say that I'm not dead, if, er, that's what you think. I actually got sucked back into our universe and nearly got executed, but I'm okay now, because against all odds, the Doctor showed up on that same planet I was on, out of the billions there are, and saved me. Oh yeah, and I died, but now I'm fine. And I can't ever come back to you, I'm sorry. But I'm with the Doctor now, so it's great. I miss you all but this is good bye. Send my love to Mickey. Rose."_

It just didn't seem right.

_It sensed the hesitation and took the opportunity to, as subtly as it could, sever one of the last ghost-like branches of soul, gleaming gold, so beautiful in the dull light of reality. It was hungry. It would devour…_

Another flinch. But Rose didn't think on it, because the next thing she saw managed to take her breath away as the Doctor and her emerged from the trees.

**XXX**

The Doctor looked at his surroundings and couldn't help smile at the familiarity of what he could see in the sky. An old galaxy. A home galaxy, whole and complete in the sky. Then the deep, wrenching sadness took hold, because what was in there… it wasn't there. It wasn't supposed to… it didn't exist anymore.

He suddenly realised that maybe he didn't want to see it again. He'd wanted to show Rose it, but he didn't have the courage to look up himself. He smiled again slightly when he saw her looking up, almost awestruck. In a way, she hadn't changed at all. She took it all on the shoulders, like always. But now there was the desperation to keep it real inside her, the new awe of seeing things that had been taken from her for a lonely seven years.

_**Someone broke the looking glass.**_

"What… what is that?" She asked, looking hesitantly at him, as if she didn't want to tear her eyes away from the sight.

"That," he said, looking up, without the smile. "Is where I used to live."

"..It's home?"

A regretful look. Then a warmth, spreading through him. "No. Not anymore." He looked back through the trees, to his box. His beloved blue box. The only thing he actually possessed.

"Sorry…"

"The TARDIS is home," he carried on, as if he hadn't ever stopped. "This is the present."

"Oh."

There was a moment of silence that threatened to stretch on uncomfortably, until Rose took up his hand again and said:

"Come on, Doctor."

"Where are we going?"

"Home."

"But I said-"

"_Home." _

_**Pick up the pieces before it's too late.Seven years passed.They're still lying in the shards.**_

And now the Doctor could sense something wrong, nagging at him towards the back of his mind. He didn't know what it was – how could he. Just that it was close. He looked to the screen that showed him the outside of the TARDIS, and saw nothing. That was home. Gallifrey had been _destroyed_. That was home now. No, old home. His home now, like he had said, was the TARDIS. His only possession. But home was also in someone else that he still didn't have the courage to admit it, too. But she was sitting on the sofa near the console, looking distant. Their reunion had been happy. But the road ahead of them was to be enjoyed, and yet it wasn't all going to be a bunch of laughs. Reality was like that.

There was a lot of mending to be done.

"_**Talk about 7 years bad luck. Try 3000." Your words.your truths.mend it before they break it again.**_

The Doctor shook his head. All these thoughts in his head, none of them coherent. Maybe it was being here all over again, with the memories. All this time, he had just been showing his weakness, his hearts worst fears. Memories. It's why he'd never tried to get to Rose again. Found another crack. Burned up another sun.

He cancelled the visual on the monitor, hopefully as inconspicuously as he could manage. It was funny, because after all that, Rose didn't really seem to paying attention to anything that was happening.

Which wasn't normal.

_**7years7years7years7years7years.Eternity will hurt.**_

He shook off the strange voices in his head. They were like some kind of bit of _him _that was panicking, but he couldn't tell why. Something did seem to be wrong in the TARDIS. Or somewhere. Some kind of destiny about to be played out before him. It was a good job he still had Rose. He reached out for her hand to hold.

She shook her head, like she'd been in some kind of stupor before, and touched a hand to her head.

"Alright, Rose?"

"Yeah… I'm fine."

And she took his hand.

It was perhaps at that moment that the voices, his former selves, went haywire, screaming inside his head. He took his head in his hands himself, with the pain of all the ear-splitting silent voices, and closed his eyes as he stumbled into the console of the TARDIS, letting go of Rose's hand completely.

X

_He put his hands in hers and the final cord was severed, and it leaped free. Rose's world exploded in pain and fire but she persevered. It needed her to. Consumed in her fiery refuge, she felt something pass out of her, into the Doctor. Was that its goal? What did it want that for?_

_Rose closed her eyes…_

_X_

…and opened them.

Everything in the TARDIS was normal. A nightmare had passed, but that was fine. Rose could cope with that. So she looked up, and what she saw made her heart stop; because in the gleaming glass pillar of the central console she could see a reflection of the floor in the TARDIS.

There was glass everywhere, and nothing had shattered. Panicking, she looked around, to the floor; to the glass everywhere, where shapes moved and flickered.

But one caught her eye, right in the centre. She dared not step on the glass, just in case it was… needed. She gasped when she saw the figure in the glass as he collapsed onto the console of the TARDIS after touching her hand. He looked up after that. Through the glass, as if he knew she was looking.

And then he vanished.

Rose stood in the pile of broken shards, and realised what they were.

They were him. Her Doctor. Pieces, memories. He was… broken.

And she didn't have a clue how it had happened. Or how she was going to restore him.

She stepped backwards almost fearfully, and something crunched beneath her foot. The image, the memory in the glass winked out of existence.

_Oh my god…_

A/N: **_Well, Rose, that makes two of us. How are you going to get out of this one, huh? Believe me. I have no clue. We'll see what happens next chapter, shall we? And so will I._**

_**I will be doing my special thanks next chapter when more people review and I have more time.**_

_**Thanks, and until then… no, 'cause then I'm going on holiday… until then, good bye, and have a great summer,**_

_**StrangePrinciples.**_


	3. Superglue ::

**_Author's Note: This is Strange Principles, otherwise Faye, sitting at a desk in a faraway isolated cottage with no internet connection, and only a battery powered laptop that will soon be taken away from her by her computer fanatical father, writing the next chapter to what she hopes is a much anticipated fan fiction, Stay Within My Sights, Stay Living in My Dreams. Why is she doing it? Because she loves her reviewers and she loves writing, and she wants you all to go away today feeling satisfied that you have read another grammatically incorrect, possibly over-descriptive, chapter with a blown out of proportion and confusing plotline. Because that's the way she writes, and she hopes you enjoy it and appreciate it. Anyway, before her computer's battery does indeed run out, she shall proceed directly to the point. And get writing._**

_**So, who wants a glimpse into the Doctor's past? Hee hee!**_

… _**Somewhere**_

_Think, Rose, think…_

She was trying, she really was. The cogs in her brain were grinding, but it was so hard. The Doctor lay about her in pieces of glass, shattered before her very eyes, and she couldn't think of a darn thing. It was just so unfair. Three days of a reunion, they had had. Three days for Rose's heart to heal again and then be ripped apart. Why did every meeting only end in more heartbreak?

Opening her eyes, a piece of glass took her attention, because there, in front of her, was a familiar sight.

Her face.

A face that was smiling and laughing; obviously, then, in the company of the Doctor.

She fell to the floor on her knees; they just collapsed. The TARDIS floor shook. The Doctor's memories and feelings were splayed out before her, and she knew she shouldn't look. She wasn't trying to look at some of the scenes before her. But she had to think, and her only rational thought was that if she could find the Doctor; the present Doctor's self, that fragment that was telling the story of where he was right now, if he existed at all, she might be able to get his help and reverse what had happened.

So she had no choice but to look through the shards. For the first time in her life, Rose Tyler felt lost among the memories. Because now, she could see everything from the Doctor's own eyes.

And how different it was from her vision.

_**Themirrorisbrokenthemirrorisbrokenthemirrorisbrokenthemirrorisbrokenthemirrorisbroken**_

_So many people had flashed through his life, vibrant and laughing one second, passed away like the day the next. But there were few who lingered on, alive in his memory, and these people were the brightest of all. She saw familiar faces. People she had known briefly but obviously had the Doctor… spellbound. It was funny, because she felt no envy for them, who had won a piece of his heart so easily. Just remorse, because they'd never see him again. He'd never see them._

_Madame De Pompadour, Sarah Jane Smith; people who must have only been Time Lords; the TARDIS; Linda, one of the girl's from Game Station – cute little Linda; other companions, all dedicated – ready to follow him into the dragon's den; even Mickey had somehow wormed his way in there. None of them were particularly happy memories._

_One was of a letter that she barely got a glimpse of before it was folded away into the Doctor's jacket. One was of Sarah Jane Smith, young again; Time Lords who looked at the Doctor as a radical of their race – Time Lords dying; the old Doctor flinching as he heard something on the intercom – maybe someone scream? – a girl with short hair looking near death – another girl, leaving the Doctor, deciding to stay with a new found love. Mickey's departure, to stay forever in a parallel universe. _

_But there was one person in particular that stood out from the rest. Someone who Rose knew had stuck with him through the thick and the thin. She knew her well, but she didn't respect the girl that much. The Doctor was way too good for her. He shouldn't favour her in such a flattering light. A tear tricked down Rose's cheek. Because that person who stood out…_

… _was herself._

_**Memoriesshatteredintothousandsandthousandandthousandandthousandsandthousandsofpieces**_

The Doctor was alive. Because he could feel the pain. And that, he concluded, was all that mattered.

The fact remained that he could not feel anything apart from it. No body, no eyes, no nose, no feet, no toes.

Well, the Doctor had never approved of the last on that list anyway. Who needed toes? If there was one thing the Doctor would have different about his humanoid regenerations, it was those goddamn awful sticky out things on the end of his feet. Terrible. Simply absurd.

But he could see. The essence of the Doctor looked out upon the scene before himself with no difficulty whatsoever. Come to think of it, if this was the quality of his vision without those annoying eyeballs, why bother with them either? He was always getting flies in them. They _hurt_. Not to mention eyelashes. And the Doctor had them, much to his regret. Eyelashes, eyeballs, and toes. Why had he never noticed how cumbersome they were before?

_Oh well,_ he thought, _better focus on what's happened to me._

The moment he thought that, the pain tripled and if he could have yelled out, he would have. The next time he opened his eyes, he could see again, but it wasn't so much of a welcoming sight, because he saw the source of his pain in all its glory. And if this was glory, then it was pretty pathetic.

A feminine, quavering voice issued from the source of golden light that was the creature. Then the light receded, and the Doctor saw what looked like an oversized insect, almost like a scorpion but bigger, more fluid, and with wings. A parasite of some sort.

_Your name is the Doctor._

The Doctor had no mouth to talk back with. But that didn't stop him responding.

_I know that, thanks. Greetings first. Who are you?_

_I have no name. _

_Aw, that's a bit sad, don't you think? And I mean that in both senses._

_You are powerful, Doctor. Ancient and nutritious. The history, the wisdom, the knowledge. These are great assets to me. Sources of power. Surrender yourself to me. Let me through…_

_No, ta. Why is it power that it always comes down to, eh? Why? I mean, it was scary the first time I ever heard someone say that, but after about the thousandth time, it's gets so _boring_; so repetitive. You know, one day I might actually enjoy the day when an alien comes up with a plot that's _original.

_I need you to sustain me, Doctor. This is my way of survival, and if you will not surrender yourself, then I must take apart your mind by force._

The Doctor thought of Rose aboard the TARDIS, and wondered what was happening. If she was confused. Well, that was inevitable. He wondered what she was doing; if, he did ever return to reality, if she would be safe. If the Doctor could have closed his eyes then, he would have.

She'd think of something. He believed in her.

_Come on then, _he thought, _bring it on._

_**Reflectionsinyourheartreflectionsinyourheartreflectionsinyourheartreflectionsinyourheart**_

She crawled her way carefully along the floor of the TARDIS, trying to avoid the glass but uncaring whether she cut her already bloodied fingers. She didn't want to break any more of the thoughts or memories. She remembered something Jack had said; good old Captain Jack; how he had wanted two years worth of his memories back. No one deserved having them taken away.

He was there, too. Jack. He obviously had a place in the Doctor's heart, too.

She wasn't concentrating on the splinters of glass that had her face in. She saw that image every time she looked in the mirror –

_**Mirrorimagemirrorimagemirrorimagemirrorimagemirrorimagemirrorimagemirrorimage**_

- anyway.

But she paused, just for a second, above one memory in vivid detail. It was a wonder she had found it, among the thousands of splinters scattered upon the floor. A memory she, too, possessed in sickening detail. Hers was from a different perspective, but the elements were the same.

She saw her hands being torn away from the lever, herself screaming as she was torn away, into the void, to be saved by her parallel father. Then she saw something she had never seen before, after the void closed up.

_He walked up to the white wall and put a hand against it, pressed his face against the wall and looked sorrowfully into the nothingness._

Rose remembered something, too. A memory from seven, almost eight years ago, when she thought she sensed something in the wall and tried to press herself into it, while she cried.

Rose dropped the shard of glass and let it fall from her hand. Her palm was a map of small cuts where she'd gripped the glass too hard. She tried to think again. It would take her hours to find the Doctor in his present state. She hit her head with her hand angrily.

Why glass?

Why were the scattered thoughts and the memories represented in the form of shards of glass? Why were they there at all? Rose remembered something, the pain she'd experienced before it had happened, as if something was cutting inside her head. Some kind of creature living in there, perhaps, biting through things, trying to gain access to her thoughts?

It was a wild theory, based only on what she had felt. But it was all she had, and she could only presume that this was the thing that had broken the Doctor.

Broken him, quite literally.

Now her senses were clearer, refined by the urgency in her head as the shock she had first experienced ebbed away. She was the old Rose again, and she was _thinking_. Thinking like the Doctor. Maybe, just maybe, she could make him come back so he could congratulate her.

Somehow, Rose had to fix him. Fix all the pieces together. Every piece was like a mirror, reflecting the thoughts. She needed a board, a support so she could stack the pieces up, try and make them fit together. It didn't matter about the shape. Just how they fitted together.

It could take her years. Long years.

But then again, she wasn't alone. Because the TARDIS was always there to help.

Rose stepped her way carefully through the mess, that did not show her reflection at all. Just the people shouting, the people dying, the people smiling, the planets being. And after that, she ran. Picked up what she needed on the second floor and brought it back up to the main room. And then she picked up the hammer by the console that the Doctor sometimes randomly hit the control panel with, put it over her shoulder for maximum impact while shielding her eyes with the other, and then hit the mirror with full force. The fragments exploded into the air, some of them cutting into her skin, and then the ordinary mirror Rose had smashed was broken, no glass left inside its rim.

"Seven years bad luck," she muttered to herself as she inspected the floor. And then she glared. "I paid in advance," was her growl as she fumbled on the floor for a piece of glass. Any piece of glass.

On the control panel was a tube of glue she had grabbed in her journey to the second floor of the TARDIS. It seemed ridiculous, but it was entirely real.

Rose Tyler was going to glue the Doctor back together again.

With the help of the TARDIS.

_**Icanseeyourfaceicanseeyourfaceicanseeyourfaceicanseeyourfaceicanseeyourfaceicanseeyourface**_

The consciousness of the Doctor was experiencing unbelievable pain. If he could have doubled up in pain, he would have. But he was allowed no such consolation, as the merciless probes of the alien creature penetrated his mind. Or tried to.

_I'm… not letting… you in there… !_

_How long will you hold out, though, Doctor? Just how strong is that mind of yours?_

_Strong enough._

He hoped he meant that.

But it was hysterically funny, or it was in the situation, because the Doctor felt as if bits of him were slowly but surely coming together. Old memories that he'd forgotten about being bonded to his feeble consciousness, and they strengthened the stronghold in his head. He just had to hold out…

_**Patienceisavirtuepatienceisavirtuepatienceisavirtuepatienceisavirtuepatienceisavirtue**_

Rose held the tube of TESCOS superglue between her teeth and fixed another piece of glass to the mirror. Anything with a straight edge, which went for most of the conveniently straight edges, was bonded together in a higgledy-piggledy mess upon the old mirror. It looked like a bad piece of modern art… which, then again, probably meant most modern art.

She didn't know if this was working. But she was going to try, if it took her a week. Or a month. Or even a year.

She'd had seven years to get him back, and she wasn't going to let him go so easily.

**_Author's Note: If you don't understand the glass stuff, it will be explained later in one of my ridiculously over the top manners, but hey, that's how we like them. I hope this chapter had an equal share of humour and anxiety, seeing as I found the fact that the Doctor is being glued back together quite funny, and I only realised after I'd read it through when editing. I hoped you like it too, and the best way to tell me, would be to –ahem- of course, to review!_**

_**Well, until I can access the computer to write the next chapter, here's from me,**_

_**StrangePrinciples**_

_**(I would write a thanks here but I don't actually know who has reviewed, seeing as I can't get onto the internet. So I'll save that till next chapter. Sorry!)**_

_g_


	4. Finding Him::

_**Author's Note: I just re-read If I could Just Touch Your World Upon a Whisper and I nearly died at how many typos were in there. I'm SO SORRY! I hate typos with a passion, because my computer isn't typo sensitive so it doesn't TELL me these things. Guess it just goes to show that I need to proof read my story SEVERAL times before posting it on fan fic. Lesson learnt!**_

_**Meanwhile, I'm still in my secluded cottage right now, so I'll wait till I get home before posting the next author's note. But I'll write as much of this chapter as I hope I can and who knows, maybe you'll be treated to two new chapters instead of one when I finally get back!**_

_**Also, one final note. There is going to be quite a lot more to this story, and it may be over 5 chapters, but that's what I'm aiming for. And don't worry, not all of it is fixed on this rather worrisome dilemma we have on our hands now!**_

**_My phone just beeped with a reminder. 5 MORE DAYS TILL MY BIRTHDAY! WHOO! I'll save you some cake. Meanwhile, Radish Earrings, I need to talk to you on urgent business concerning a birthday party  (All the rest of you are invited to come in spirit!)_**

**The TARDIS floor**

Now the mirror grew larger, the memories inside it growing lesser; sometimes they all merged together until it was just one large image upon the glass. Rose knew that the Doctor didn't want anyone knowing about his past. Not in the detail that was splayed before her. So she didn't look. She kept her eyes on the floor, tube of glue working away. The hilarity of the situation was extreme. Who would've thought that for once their places would change, and she would be saving the Doctor?

However, Rose was sure that had it been him saving her, he would _not_ be standing in front of a board with a tube of glue in his hand.

Rose was ignoring the small pieces of glass upon the floor; she'd concentrate on those later. The sticky mess upon the board mainly consisted of the larger pieces of glass; the more important memories. The fact remained she was running out of them, and soon she'd have to concentrate on the smaller ones. The mess upon the old broken mirror's back board was about two hundred fragments large now, and it had taken Rose at least an hour and a half to achieve such a feat. But she'd work away until it was finished.

Fumbling with the glass upon the floor, she moved onto the smaller shards, eyes fixed with concentration as her hand squeezed out the remaining glue onto each flat side.

For ten minutes, she solely concentrated on this. And then she looked down again, to find the next bit of glass; and she saw something that made her shiver. And that something had been the thing that had dwelled inside her mind, eating, biting; tearing. Somewhere in Rose's head she guessed that. So she took it up in her hands that were red with carelessness, and glued it upon the mirror board. And the vision changed from an old memory to the picture that had been upon the fragment of glass.

She couldn't see the Doctor, just the parasite; the insect that suddenly, she knew had been in her head. But she could feel him, even just watching, she could almost see him. Was that him? That swirl of unimaginable colours? Or was she just imagining it? Either way, the ball of rainbows and beauty seemed to be losing in a war against the parasite.

Somewhere in her heart, Rose knew it was the Doctor. In the present. Fighting it out.

He needed her help. For every shard she put upon the mirror he grew stronger, and for every shard she forgot to put on, the insect made progress.

Now, Rose really didn't care about the scratches and cuts upon her blood-ridden hands. She collected every shard in site, looked back up at the glass. She couldn't help touching it, wanting to help.

The new tube of TESCOS superglue was out and at work, but one hand stayed on the image briefly before allowing itself to be swallowed by concentration.

"Doctor…"

_**Everythingcomestogethereverythingcomestogethereverythingcomestogethereverythingcomestogether**_

Agony was a thing of the past now, because it had been taken over, swallowed by a pain so excruciating the Doctor felt like he was dying. He knew he wasn't. Common sense told him that much. But he knew if this carried on much longer, then it would.

Somehow, he had to stop it from getting in.

That was when he felt it. Something besides the hot knives stabbing from every direction. As if something was reaching into the scene of battle, touching his _soul._ And the voice after that, he heard it to. Faintly. It gave him strength.

"Doctor…"

And suddenly, by some unearthly force – maybe the TARDIS, maybe Rose's strength –

_**YourMirrorImageYourMirrorImageYourMirrorImageYourMirrorImageYourMirrorImage**_

- he saw her image. Rose Tyler with a tube of superglue between her teeth, on the floor of the TARDIS, scattered with glass and bits of his life; jumbled up and mislaid upon the ground. Her hands were bloody and fumbling for different shards.

It was a vision he only got to see for a second.

The hilarity of the situation caught him, and for a moment, all agony ceased. He knew she'd think of something. But that wasn't quite what he'd had in mind.

The Doctor took what seemed all of his energy at that painless moment, and he threw himself towards the ethereal insect. If he'd had hands he would have grappled with him. Fleetingly, amidst the pain that ensued, the Doctor wondered what had happened to his body.

No time to think about that.

It was attack, or be devoured.

Maybe several days ago; maybe a week, the Doctor would have gone for the second option.

But this was the _present_. And right now, he was looking at life in a much more favourable light.

The screams of pain weren't just coming from his mind anymore…

_**TurningTheHourGlassRunningOutofTimeHoursPassedHurryBeforeItsTooLateSandGushingTimeRunningOut**_

Rose's eyes opened, and for a blissful second she was in bed, savouring the last moments of sleep like she so enjoyed. And then reality came crashing down and Rose realised, eyes widening, that she had fallen asleep at one of the most critical points in the Doctor's… existence. Panicking, she looked around at the TARDIS. It was becoming lighter within, and the glass on the floor was still there.

Rose stopped.

She stared.

The glass no longer had flickering memories and dreams in it. It was…just glass. There were few pieces there now; many more were stuck to the mirror in the jumbled mess. But there was something wrong about that, too, because Rose walked up to it. And it had no memories inside. Instead… she just saw her own face. Staring in disbelief and confusion and loss.

Where had he gone?

_**Darknessrollinginnowthemirrorseesallseesyouclosinginsuffocatingwherehaveyougonecomebacktome**_

**_Darkness. _Black. **Nothing.

_The lament of the TARDIS rang out in space, in every universe imaginable. She felt the loss of her Time Lord, the temporary absence of his faithful companion, and the TARDIS felt alone. The girl slept with exhaustion. The Doctor fought a battle that in his state, both he, and the TARDIS knew, he could not win. _

_Her heart opened._

_Literally._

_The glass on the floor scattered, and the memories and images winked out as everything, every thought, every bit of consciousness was sucked within her soul in remorse. The Doctor's thoughts, his regenerations, every bit of him that made him… him… was taken in to her as the TARDIS grieved what she thought was the loss of the last Time Lord._

_But the TARDIS wasn't always right._

_After all, it was ancient. More knowledgeable than the Doctor, perhaps._

_And more often than anything, he was wrong._

_**Darknessstillrollingintakingyouawaysleepforevermoregoldenlightdesiststhedeadstaydeadandwemustwait**_

"I'm dead," said the Doctor incredulously. "You killed me."

And he knew it was true, because the Doctor was always right. Which wasn't true at all.

It was dark, wherever he was. Unnaturally dark. Worryingly dark. Several "if"s and "but"s ran through his head at this stage. Until he realised one thing that he had thought impossible as he had attacked that strange, parasitical alien.

_Thoughts ran through his head._

The Doctor had a head.

Which could only sensibly conclude in the fact that he must have a body, as well.

"HAH!" He cried, waving arms that he actually possessed around. He took it all back. He loved his eyes and his toes and his eyelashes. Well, maybe not those. But wherever he was, the Doctor realised that he was back. Just one problem.

He didn't remember defeating the insect.

So that could only mean it was in his body, with him.

"Natch," he said glumly. And tried to move.

The air around him rippled, like it might when he touched the surface of water, like he wanted to distort his reflection or something of the like.

That was when the Doctor's huge, superglue fixed brain, realised point number two. That the only way he could get out of the…no place… was for the gateway to be opened from the other way, too. After all, a door wouldn't always open after you unlocked one side. There was the other lock to be considered, on the other. The one that, in previous bodies, he had never been able to reach. Some doors were pretty tall.

So the Doctor unwillingly crossed his legs calmly and decided that his only way out was to play the waiting game on Rose. She had to find the gateway sometime soon.

_**MirrorsAreEverywhereCanYouSeeTheM?PassthroughintotheotherworldbetheSALVATION**_

Rose looked at the console blankly, not knowing what to do. She was back at square one, when hopelessness gripped her and all she could feel was her own desolate thoughts swimming about in her head. The monitor was on and she looked at it, not really seeing much. It showed outside, just as starry, just as dusty, as it had been before. A bit like her thoughts, mixed up inside her head. Stumbling over each other to get her main attention. But all were centred around one thing; the sense of loss and anger with herself.

She sat down on the sofa and laid her head against the arm rest. Her eyes were heavy and not to mention wet. She hadn't bothered to put plasters on her hands and now they _hurt. _

She was tired again, but she didn't want to sleep.

She just wanted to escape from reality, just for a bit.

_She was walking around the TARDIS console numbly. Her thoughts were coming together now. The question was still there, unanswered. Where had he gone? But there were others that she thought she knew the answer to. _

_Why glass? Because Rose Tyler couldn't have understood anything else. If she'd seen individual thoughts upon the floor then it could have only been confusing. So the thoughts of the Doctor, being their own consciousness, had taken on a form that she could understand. At least, something she was familiar with, anyway. That was her theory._

_What had happened? Rose had been infected by a parasite. An evil she could have picked up from anywhere, but maybe it had been the black hole. Maybe, when she travelled through, she had picked up more than she had bargained for. But it hadn't wanted her. It had wanted the Doctor. And from her thoughts, it had grown stronger, until it could pass through, into him, completely and with ease. The Doctor had protected himself against it. Maybe he had always intended to take it on without a body. Maybe he had done that just so the insect would never find or feast on his thoughts. Because while they were scattered glass, in reality, the parasite could not reach them._

_It made sense._

_What didn't make sense was the fact that Rose didn't know what had happened or where he had gone – what she could do to help._

_Glass crunched underneath her feet, but it was blank glass. The kind of stuff that might lie lifelessly upon the floor after a window is shattered. Useless. No help at all, and definitely no consolation._

_Rose put her hands against the console and looked into the main pillar of the TARDIS, wondering what the hell she should do – how to get him back. Because she wasn't leaving; she wasn't going anywhere, and even if she could – _

"Roooooose…"

The whining sound issued from somewhere in the TARDIS. It sounded bored. It sounded… familiar.

"What?" She said aloud, turning around, trying to find the root of it.

"Rooooose, I'm _bored."_

"Doctor?"

"That's the one. Mind hurrying up?"

Rose hit her head, but the voice was definitely there. She wasn't just imagining things. She'd thought the whole thing had been a dream but there it was; it was real. And so was the voice, because she could hear it clearly now, issuing out of the mirror.

She reached out to touch the solid surface – and her fingers slid through like they might do with water. The surface rippled and her face lay distorted with each small wave. It wasn't a mirror anymore. It was…

…a gateway?

Rose looked around, reached onto the console for the sonic screwdriver, which she pocketed, just in case, and slid through the surface of the long dressing mirror which was crudely stuck together by her hand.

She stepped into darkness.

But she wasn't alone. A smile spread across her face as she helped him up.

"Took your time!"

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

_**To be continued next chapter**_

**_Author's Note: Okay, so the Doctor still has a great big insect to deal with, a few riddles to solve, people to save (I told you this wasn't just the main plotline), and a few things he has to do for Rose. All in a day's work. Meanwhile, Nat, PICK UP THE PHONE! And if you're on holiday… well… enjoy it and then… PICK UP THE PHONE! Check your messages!_**


	5. Touching Your World ::

**Chapter Four**

**Author's Note: I had my birthday yesterday, thanks to all you wonderful reviewers who gave me a "Happy Birthday!". So, I'm 14… so that means this chapter has to be one year better in quality than the others, right? Well… I'll try.**

**First of all I'd like to thank people who particularly inspire me to write… Jessa7 with your new sequel, Stargazing Basketcase with YOUR new sequel, Romana , Radish Earrings, Ravena Storm… there are more… I'll remember them later **

**Want me to read your fan fiction?**

**Tell me in a PM or review… reviews preferred, XP. I review anything I read. Absolutely anything. And I'm pretty honest, too.**

**Right… let's get on with it, shall we? I hate to say it, but I have a horrible feeling this won't be a happy chapter… but it will get happier **

_**The 'Big Dark'**_

It was black where they were. The darkness was absolute. If the Doctor hadn't said something, or had she not tripped over him before helping him up, Rose wouldn't have seen him. But… that was definitely him. He was there. Her Doctor.

"Where are we?"

"This…" Said the Doctor thoughtfully. "I don't know," he said. "But I have a theory. Bring me anything?"

Rose fumbled for her jean pocket, bringing out the familiar shape of the sonic screwdriver and handing it to the Doctor. The blue light switched on and she saw his face, smiling through the darkness. Only then did the line of worry in Rose that still constricted her thoughts diminish; she beamed back.

"Ah, she comes prepared," he said; "mind you, I could _kill_ a tuna sandwich."

"Sorry… no sandwich," apologised Rose, and found that ridiculously, she meant it. It was the relief that had taken her. For a moment in the TARDIS she had thought – just for a split second – that she'd never see him again. The thought had made her heart stop – miss a beat. And then it had gone, staying in the back of her mind…

"So, that thing… how did you kill it?"

"Oh, it's not dead."

Rose looked around worriedly. "Where is it then? You send it away or something?"

"Nah," he said, and tapped his head. "Still in there. Actually, I should be getting rid of it about –"

And he yelled in pain, doubling over. Within two seconds he was standing up again, eyes looking up as if he was trying to look inside his mind, sonic screwdriver poking in his ear threateningly, as if trying to make the parasite come out. Rose stepped forward hesitantly.

"Doctor – are you all…"

"Fine! Fine and being eaten inside but that's okay! Just give me a moment!" His voice was tight and higher than normal. He was having… well, Rose would have said a mad moment – but mad had just been named after the Doctor.

"Shouldn't we go back to the TARDIS?"

"Here's as good as anywhere to kill a suicidal murderous bug, Rose. You should know that by now."

Rose didn't quite know what to do or what to say. The worm of worry that had burrowed its way into her mind and promptly vanished returned, growing larger, and she watched the Doctor close his eyes. His face changed like she'd never seen it before, like he was giving in to it…

_**LightSoBrightBlindingFlashingEnteringThroughTheMirrorOfMindsDarknessWhite**_

Words would never be able to describe the Doctor. What he had seen. The emotions he had experienced; the contrasts, the pain, the love and the heartbreak. The loneliness. This was just one of those indescribable moments that _were_ the Doctor. One of the scenes in his life where he wrestled with fate and challenged it, when all odds were against him.

Inside his head was the dust of a thousand battles past; the remnants of planets dead with the ages; swarms of people who lived and died just as the seasons change – the sadness, the remorse.

Because now, he could _remember._

All thanks to a tube of superglue. And Rose Marion Tyler; the Bad Wolf.

So he was stronger than his space invader that tried to take over his head. With this thought in mind, the Doctor relaxed his thoughts, concentrated his mind. He could see the golden light of the insect. The feminine voice shook his thoughts as he listened to it talk.

_You have not escaped me, Doctor. I swam through space and time and nothing to get you… nothing… will stop me…_

_We'll see about that._

"Rose?"

"Yes, Doctor?"

The ever hopeful voice piped up through the darkness.

"Feel like helping me save my life?"

A pause. Maybe she was smiling. Or frowning; maybe she was curious. But then it came:

"Any day."

"Come here, then. Put your hands… there." He said, resting her fingers on his temples. "I'm sorry…"

"Sorry for what?" Rose said, and this time he could sense her frown. And then she went deadly quiet.

_**The.mirrors.touch.the.reflections.merge.**_

She walked on a rock that had died centuries passed.

She drowned in a sea that had dried.

She walked through a scene of battle where bones had been obliterated, and the very land had turned red.

She was alone. She went through a time where there was nothing but the tide of darkness. Where she felt hopeless against it.

She felt new ground underneath her feet and relished the feeling.

She felt the sunlight of different stars on her head and saw the beauty of her surroundings.

She felt the moonlight on her head and saw the beauty destroyed.

Rose saw time flash by. Centred around one person.

Golden light ensued.

_**Reflections.Become.One.When.You.Touch.**_

The Doctor wasn't stupid. He knew two heads were better than one. He knew three heads were better than two, and he knew four were better than three. He didn't have four or three heads. He didn't have the strength inside him, not with the parasite still in him, to eradicate it alone. But Rose was his second head and he needed her to do one thing for him. Maybe she'd already seen enough of his memories sticking them back together, but either way, whether he liked it or not – whether she knew what was going to happen or not, he needed her mind to help take the dark presence away from his head.

The thing inside felt cold surprise. The Doctor could feel it, as Rose saw everything he saw. No time for doors and he had no right to build them for her anyway. She was Rose… and that was explanation enough.

"Rose, focus on what was inside your head."

For a moment her presence vanished entirely from his head, and then it was back; golden light returned to the world as the Doctor looked through both his own and Rose's eyes, into his mind – that one fixed thing. The parasitical entity feeding off his thoughts.

It was then he realised that the light wasn't just coming from the creature, which was dull in comparison to the brightness that surrounded his thoughts. No; that was something stronger, something Rose had brought with her into his mind.

The Bad Wolf?

The Time Vortex?

Either way, he focused his mind and the centre of the light together, merging them together, binding them into one; focused every part of energy in his being at the alien plaguing his thoughts.

The pain and the anger were forgotten in the battle larger than life, yet happening in someone's head. The ferocity of the Bad Wolf was extreme; it burned even the Doctor's head. There was no time to register Rose's surprise at the thing unleashed inside her, no time to scream out loud in reality – because every bit of his… _their_ being, was focused on the alien presence.

It was consumed in the fiery tides of union.

_**Reflections.Shatter.But.You.Stay.Real.**_

The two figures lay as if they were dead.

Golden light flickered at the corners of their being, but the connection had been severed. No longer were they touching. Through the darkness, this light was the only thing that could be seen. The only detection that anything lived in the empty space was that point of fire. That blinding gold sea.

Those two figures. Cold as death. Living where no life should have existed.

The Time Lord was flat on his back, like a stargazer might lie on a hill to watch space pass them by. He wasn't stargazing. She was curled protectively around herself, defending her being against hidden enemies.

Eyes closed. Dead to the world.

Fighting inside.

_**If.I.Fall.So.Does.The.Mirror.Image.Fate.Decides.To.End.This.Together.**_

Dazzling light and foreboding darkness mixed together in Rose's mind. She felt her eyes burn as they glowed beneath closed lids. She was lying on a surface she couldn't see. Somewhere in the blackness.

She rose slowly, and put a hand to her temples. Remembering was hard work. Her vision was obscured by the pure gold glory that sufficed her body. She looked at the veins in the wrist of her hand. They flowed with a starry stream of something.

The Bad Wolf lived inside her still.

And _that_ was the moment of remembrance. The Doctor doing something that she'd only ever seen him do to a young girl named Chloe Webber in 2012. Somewhere on Earth; the same earth she'd lived in years ago. That didn't matter. He'd looked in her memories, without permission.

She didn't care.

She'd seen her own equal share of his thoughts, too. None of them made her feel happy inside. How did he cope?

_**You.Give.Me.The.Strength.To.Rise**_

_**Break Away from the Reflection**_

The Doctor knew in his conscious mind that the battle had been won. That was something to be glad about; but Rose was a different matter.

He'd seen what was in her mind. And for the most part, it was what he saw: the adventures they'd had prized above, held most precious above anything else that had been in her life. The fierce determination to stay with him. To not get left behind. No, she definitely wasn't having that again; he could tell that. Even the way she prized him above everyone else – even her father, Pete, who she'd always wanted to find again. That made him feel guilty.

But somehow, he wasn't surprised. Because she'd confessed herself a long time ago on that godforsaken beach.

The thing that made him feel most guilty was the fact that he hadn't warned her or asked her at all. Just gone ahead and done it. Taken advantage of her trust.

He hadn't opened his eyes yet. Sleeping had always been one of the Doctor's favourite hobbies. But then again, there was always a time when one had to wake up: a sad and terrible truth. So he did.

He got up, brushed off his pinstriped jacket and looked around at the blackness. He saw Rose on the floor scramble up as soon as she saw him get up.

It didn't really do much to stop him feeling guilty.

"Is it… is it gone?"

"Yep," said the Doctor. "Dead, gone, done for… doomed… however you'd like to put it."

"…Good." She seemed to be struggling with talking in the proper manner; her voice was almost falsely bright, like she was trying to lighten the mood up. Good old Rose. She would do that.

"So, um, where are we?"

Another pause after he answered, and this time, the Doctor had to think about it. "Y'know," he said: "this is just me making a theory, just a guess –"

"Which you're _terribly_ good at…"

"…But I _think_ we're in the heart of the TARDIS."

Rose paused.

"You're joking."

The Doctor didn't say anything to that. He walked around in a circle and waved at the air. It was unmoving, no longer rippling like it had before. That meant he couldn't get back to the TARDIS control room via the mirror; after all, it had only existed outside the heart. But the Doctor wasn't worried; his guesswork was normally right. It was when he announced something as fact that it was proved wrong.

The TARDIS had sucked the memories and fragments that contained the Doctor's thoughts within herself. The Doctor had been conscious of it, even while he battled. So it made sense that when they recollected, and produced the existence he was in now, they would merge in the TARDIS.

The Doctor had a way out, of course. This was the last part – and unusually, the easiest.

"Not joking," he said. "But easily fixed, eh? Good 'ole' sonic screwdriver."

He directed it upwards, and turned the light on.

Light flooded the world.

_**Imagine.Me.Without.You:Without.Reflection.Without.A.Shadow**_

Rose felt the gold rip through her body. It wasn't unpleasant, and yet it wasn't wholly comforting, either. And when she next looked around, she was looking upon a familiar sight – more welcoming than ever. Compared to the darkness that had been within the heart – if that had been it – the greenish tinged light of the control room was like the light of morning. It was welcome. Rose, for the first time since the battle in her head had ensued, saw everything in reality.

The whine of the sonic screwdriver sounded behind her and the heart of the TARDIS closed. She still didn't understand why that had happened – why the heart of its being? And why… why when they had been in there, it hadn't been the gold of the time vortex shining around them? She voiced the question. The Doctor had one of his ridiculously long and complex answers in store for her, as response.

"The TARDIS recollected all my memories, sucked them in. That's why we were there; why you could hear me. And as for why the time vortex wasn't there, don't be fooled by the size of the console. The heart of the TARDIS has just as many memories as I do, it just took us to place of safety."

"Right… I think I get it."

There was another awkward silence as Rose scratched the back of her head and looked at him. His eyes were downcast as he restored the systems of the TARDIS, turning a switch there and pulling a lever here. She'd seen him like that once before.

A long time ago.

It was after he'd rushed off, excited about adopting a new companion in King Louis' Mistress, Madame de Pompadour; or, to the Doctor, Reinette. He'd returned with a sorrowful face and a lot less energy in his step. That was the first time Rose had thought the Doctor had come close to heartbreak. She might have been jealous then. But it didn't matter now.

The Doctor without energy. It was like an English sky that wasn't grey.

_Maybe it was you. You looking at all his memories._

Guilt burned brightly in Rose.

"Doctor…"

"Mm."

"What happened. I didn't… I didn't, you know, look at anything. Not on purpose, anyway…"

Pause.

"I don't care if you did."

"But…?"

"I said," He announced, in one of his softer tones; "I don't care if you did. Memories… are memories. That's how they'll stay, too."

"You know that isn't true."

Rose felt a burning in her throat and her eyes. She'd lived inside his head, just for a second, with all the memories. And it had been the worst time of her life. She knew almost everything about him now, and yet she didn't feel any closer. If anything, she felt further away from him.

"How do you cope, then, Doctor?"

And that was when his face changed as fast as lightning.

_**A/N: Squeeness! Thanks for all your reviews and if there are typos in this don't hesitate to carve out my insides with a big sharp pointy knife.**_

_**I don't know what happens next. But I'll make it good. Promise. **_

_**Thanks again, SP.**_


	6. I Understand::

_**A/N: Not much of a note here. Going to be a pretty angsty chapter… sorry:) So… enjoy!**_

Rose had never been so terrified in her life; not of her Doctor. Not of her wonderful, fantastic, larger than life Doctor. She'd never been so terrified of hurting him, never been so terrified that maybe she'd done something that cut so deep time may never heal it; but it was more than that. She'd never been so terrified of the Doctor himself. Never been so terrified at what he might _do._

The face surpassed bitterness, twisting slowly and yet taking less than a nanosecond, it seemed, to change into the angry mask that was so often used in the presence of danger. The kind of face the Doctor had once used to confront evil-doers and crazed geniuses, the face he used with people who had put her in danger. It was so out of character for the Doctor, as a whole, that that in itself terrified Rose out of her wits.

But nothing happened. He stood back from the console with an impossible glare in his eyes, staring her down. Looking at her like there was so much he wanted to yell and scream about, and yet, he either couldn't, or wouldn't make himself do it. The effect of his stare without words was enough for Rose to feel unnerved, maybe for the first time ever in his presence.

And then he turned away.

It was funny. Because she knew at once that she had been dismissed.

Her eyes burned with unshed tears as she slowly navigated her way to her reoccupied room. The question that remained was whether he meant that as a permanent dismissal.

She wiped her eyes. It didn't help the hollow feeling that spread through her being, withering even her soul.

_**Your.Reflection.Is.Perfection.Yet.Reality.Shows.A.Monster.**_

The Doctor, or the memories inside him, burned. It couldn't be said he was the Doctor at that moment. His memories and feelings had existed on their own for long enough to know and feel independence; to get used to it while they were glued back together by the ever-wonderful Rose's hands. They seethed, burning away any strand of the Doctor's grip on sanity as they acted, almost of their own accord.

Or maybe it wasn't them. Maybe it was the darkness that inevitably dwelled in him. Or maybe he just wouldn't face the truth. Maybe it was him. Him with those glaring eyes that must have terrified Rose into running away.

She'd never done that before. Never turned from him with that fear in her eyes. Never run away; because he had heard her footsteps sound against the floor panels of the TARDIS. Quickening as she got further away from him.

What had she said? What had her offence been?

Caring too much. Being gracious; being honest. Being inquisitive. Being worried about his hurts. Being Rose.

And suddenly, this overwhelming feeling of horror at how cold he had been overwhelmed whatever had risen in him before; and for all his fury at himself the Doctor picked up a hammer and let it fly across the control room until it connected with the central column of the TARDIS. There was a deafening crash as glass of all shapes and sizes rained down on him; but not glass. It was part of the TARDIS and therefore it couldn't be. So it couldn't cut him, couldn't hurt him, he told himself as it rained about his shoulders. The TARDIS wouldn't let it; after all, it was a part of her being. And she would never hurt the Doctor.

That was what he told himself, even as the cuts appeared on his face and hands.

_**Reality.Is.Your.Choice.You.Choose.Your.Own.Reflection.**_

For some reason, Rose Tyler was shaken to the bone like she had never been before. Not even when she'd been alone in a dimension without him had she felt the tremors like she was experiencing now. The heart break had been worse. But the fright, the terror…

The Doctor, loathing her? It was the scariest thought she'd ever had to suffer.

It was only when she had to lean against one of the walls of the corridor she had hid down that she realised she'd been running from him. Running – from the _Doctor_. It had been so little time since a blissful reunion, and already Rose was scared – scared that the dream might end. Scared that he wouldn't want her anymore.

After seven years of feverishly wishing and dreaming that they might be reunited one day, the fact that he might not want to travel with her anymore just because of some bug was enough to make her heart miss a beat.

It was no wonder the tears sprung from her eyes, coursing down her face in hot streaks.

And then she heard the splintering sound of glass being broken; and then a monumental crash. She flinched when she heard it, but she knew that it wasn't near her and anything, anything that the Doctor was doing couldn't hurt her. Not if she hid.

And then, when he'd got over whatever had made him ill, she'd be with him again.

So she opened the door closest to her and stepped inside. Just a normal bedroom, one she had never seen before. But one where she was free to slump on the bed and think. And let the black stained tears leave small streams upon the clean pillow's surface.

Her mind moved back to what she'd seen in the Doctor; unwillingly, she had to say – but nevertheless, when it had happened, she hadn't shoved the memories away from her either. She guessed she didn't deserve his trust.

It was stupid to ask how he coped. And his reaction was inevitable.

And she knew she had ruined everything.

Her hand clenched into a tight ball, and the cuts on her palm opened up and red rivers were added to the black upon the pristine white sheets. Cuts where she had _bled_ for him. _Toiled_ to get him back to her. Sacrificed her own memories and privacy to help him fight off a life threatening parasite.

But none of that mattered now, because whether she had done those things or not, now she had done something wrong. And she was suffering for it.

_**Why.Does.This.World.Of.Mirrors.Always.Lead.Me.To.You **_

The TARDIS was angry. She couldn't talk her anger away to anyone, and she couldn't do anything short of completely locking him out to show it; and that was one step she was unwilling to take. She was the vessel of pure strength that outshone even the Doctor, the only living creature who shared his memories and felt his pain. But even she could not understand, in her vast brain, in that ancient consciousness, why her lone companion was acting so terribly. He was almost savage; that gleam in his eyes.

She was telepathic and she shared in both their memories, and the sudden hostility that had risen in him was enough to scare the living daylights out of anyone. And Rose wasn't easily scared; that was her charm. Rose never lost it completely. Never let the Doctor be alone unless she was physically prevented – and so for her to run away, the TARDIS knew that something was wrong. She knew it because she could feel it like never before.

But she couldn't do anything about it.

That is, until the hammer connected with her central column. And then she let the glass rain down on the Doctor like a whirlwind of deadly hail. She let it cut it into him and hoped in her fragile existence that he realised what she thought.

Having no voice was something the TARDIS was not remorseful of. She looked out on space and that was joy enough; she sang, and she revelled in the conversation shared between Rose and the Doctor.

With only the Doctor life could only be described as… lonely. She loved him. But when he had lost Rose he was lonely. And because of that, she was, too.

So not only did she love Rose, she needed her. The Doctor did, too.

And she did the only thing she could do and went as far as she was willing to go; and for once in her life, deliberately hurt him.

The song changed in space, and time. If you listened carefully, wherever you were; whatever universe, whatever planet – even in different dimensions, you would have been able to hear the lullaby of the TARDIS change. The beautiful lament got raucous; the sounds, incomprehensible to alien ears, began to shriek in terrible discord to the night sky.

But even if you couldn't understand it, you would've known something was wrong. And if you were wise you would have hidden away, and hoped that the source of that noise didn't make an arrival anywhere near you in the future.

Because the TARDIS was angry like she had never been before, and she was screaming to the stars.

_**You.Everywhere.In.My.reflection.In.Every.Mirror.I.Only.See.your.Face.**_

The Doctor stood in a control room with no feeling in it. No feeling reserved for him, anyway. Just coldness. As if all the presence of the TARDIS had gone and no longer wanted anything to do with him. Which was bad enough; but it wasn't just the presence of the TARDIS that was missing. Normally this other anonymous presence was always there, wherever she was, even when she wasn't in the TARDIS. The smell lingered on, one of those modern perfumes she was addicted to and had made him buy only a day ago; and yet, nothing in it reminded him of her.

The control room was absent without both of them.

Memories flashed in his head, but he knew they weren't his. They weren't his property; stolen from someone else's mind in his bid for freedom from his parasitical captor. At least, even if they were his memories, he had no right to see them from her perspective. No right at all.

_Sometimes, when she got into bed in her baggy pyjamas that the old Rose, the one that was always out to impress boys, would never have worn a couple of years ago, she reflected on what had happened. How she had been chosen out of all the people, all those billions of candidates in the universe, to have the trip of a lifetime with the man of a lifetime. Sometimes, she smiled to herself and felt pride, because she knew she was brave. And sometimes she denied it and was completely at a loss as to why it had been her. But the thought that slipped her mind most of all, was that she was lucky. And if she ever did have a night where she'd go to bed properly instead of falling asleep in the control room, which was a lot less common than the latter, this thought would produce a contentment so deep she fell asleep instantly._

**Flash**

_This time she was in the TARDIS. She was enraged and angry, but when you stripped that exterior away you found the anguished Rose inside. But above all else, even through the remorse and the anguish that boiled within, she was desperate. Desperate to get back to the man she loved, and the man who was going to die if she wasn't there. Maybe they'd both die, even if she was there. But that didn't matter; not now. She'd risk anything. Do anything. She just wanted him back._

_She wasn't going to not be there to hold his hand. Even he needed that. Even he couldn't deny her that._

**Flash**

_For a moment the man just mouthed useless words. For a moment, none of it made sense at all, because her mind was clouded with incoherent thoughts that were in turmoil inside her head, each delivering the same message and yet, there were so many thoughts to be listened to at the same time, she was too deafened to hear them._

_And then the truth of what he was saying sunk in. Her reply was ready even before she had thought of an appropriate answer._

"…_We're leaving."_

_She was ready for that. Suddenly, all the thoughts in her head became clear. They waited their turn to be heard and in a blink of a second she processed every worried whisper in her mind. And she let them out, through word of mouth. Three, small words, defining all her feelings. _

"_I'm not going."_

_She was adamant. But the Captain's face darkened stubbornly. He had his own ideas._

"_Rose, there's space for you."_

"_No. I'm gonna wait for the Doctor… just like he waited for me." Her voice quivered a bit, as the shock lingered on and slowly diminished, and the realisation kicked in. She couldn't understand what she was feeling because she'd never took the time to admit it before. Never told him what she felt – never told anyone. And maybe that meant she couldn't believe it, not quite. Not yet._

_Then the Captain, Zach – and she knew him from another universe, too, but this was the Zach she so clearly remembered – let his face soften. For a moment, he really did look remorseful, and his words were possibly meant to lend comfort – or his expression. But Rose only saw poison come from his mouth._

"_You don't know him, 'cause he's not," she said, voice trembling even more, but she didn't care what state she was in; just so long as they got the message. "I'm telling you he's… he's not… and even if he was, how could I leave him? All on his own, all the way down there?" She meant every word. She paused for a moment, and another wave of realisation overcame her. But she carried on; it was important for them to get the point. "No… I'm gonna stay."_

_Because she would never abandon him. She needed them to know that she really didn't care about being stuck in a flat-packed wardrobe that was full of possessed Ood, on a planet that might be sucked into a black hole, as long as she was waiting for the Doctor. As long as there was a hope that he might return, and even if he didn't, she wanted to really show that she was prepared to stick with him until the end and beyond. Because if there wasn't a Doctor… there wasn't anything in life. Not one…_

He stopped it there. Stopped the memories as he opened his eyes and looked around with a crystal clarity that hadn't been there before. He'd seen things inside her head that he had never imagined could have happened. Who would have thought she would say all those things, feel them?

He realised the sad truth. Everyone had known but him.

As he looked around the TARDIS console he saw the shattered glass and put a hand on one of the controls, looking remorsefully around.

"I'm sorry, old girl," he said. And the TARDIS hummed; but only for a second. Then the control room was quiet again, but the silence held no tranquillity. The Doctor knew what this meant, and he knew what the TARDIS meant. She wasn't the one he needed to apologise to. She wasn't the one who was in pain.

The Doctor dismissed all the glass that scattered the floor (after all, by this time, glass on the floor of the TARDIS seemed to be a permanent fixture), and went running to find something much more precious, and much more fragile, than any glass around.

_**Reflections.Mimic.Each.Other.But.Reality.Shows.The.Monster.Within **_

**_Rose _**opened her eyes. She hadn't been sleeping. Just thinking.

Thinking about how the Doctor had abandoned her once before. Run off to save a wealthier, prettier woman. Thinking about how she'd forgiven him instantly. About how he'd once yelled at her for being a stupid ape, just like all the others. How she'd forgiven him. How he'd changed. How she'd grown accustomed. How he'd been so willing to let her go at TORCHWOOD before she forced herself back upon him. How she'd forgiven him. How he'd never been able to say three little words and how she'd been able to say them to him. How she'd had her heart broken.

Thinking about how he'd yelled for her as her hands had been ripped from the lever; how he'd burned up a sun to say good bye to her; how he'd always had the faith in her to solve a mystery just as well as him, and how he sometimes just turned around and smiled and told her she was fantastic – completely out of the blue.

The good times with the Doctor vanquished the bad times, even if they didn't outweigh them or outnumber them.

She had to find him. Tell him she was sorry. Say anything at all; pack her bags even though now she only owned what remnants she had brought with her and some of the things she'd left behind so long ago, and the TARDIS had kept them for longer than she had ever, so they might as well be the machines. She'd leave. She'd even make that sacrifice so long as he took her apology.

But she'd rather not.

In her heart's heart, she'd rather talk some sense into him; slap him if she must. Stubbornly sit there until he promised to talk.

She came out of the room, uncaring to whether she had blood all down her arms or black eyes. And she started walking back towards the control room.

It was as she slowly shut the door, confused as to what she would say or do, that she turned around and met his grave stare.

"I'm sorry, Rose. I'm so sorry."

For a moment she was speechless, too confused with her own apology to register his.

"I… just wanted to say I… I'm sorry for looking," she paused, "I shouldn't have… and if you want me… out, then I'll pack… I'll go…"

For a moment the most stricken expression crossed his features as he just looked at her. A kind of pain in his eyes that looked like he regretted a lot of things. A lot of recent things.

"You're leaving." He said. And that was all.

He said like it was something incredible; something incomprehensible. But that wasn't necessarily in a good way.

"Well," she said – like she was talking to a stranger, of all things; "If you… I mean, I thought you'd want me to go..."

"No," he said abruptly, like the word had forced its way out before he had time to consider what it meant. Then the voice softened. "You know… I did just say I was sorry."

"What for?" Rose was uncertain, like she still didn't know him; like she was testing the ground with her foot lest it gave way.

"Uhm," he said for a moment, face set in concentration; "I think that would be… that would be… acting hostile? Damaging property? Trespassing on the property of Rose Tyler? Not cleansing? Neglecting the fruit bowl too much?"

For a moment Rose couldn't help but forget to stifle one of her breathless laughs; and then his face cracked into a grin as well, and her heart began to beat faster but that wasn't because of worry. She launched herself at him and as always, as he always had been, he was there to catch her in his arms.

"So we're okay?" This time it was him questioning.

Rose smiled from inside the embrace. "Goes without saying."

_**But.After.All.Whatever.I.Possess.A.reflection.Doesn't.It's.Still.A.Little.Bit.Of.Me**_

Ten minutes with the sonic screwdriver fixed the central column, while he talked with Rose. Not about what he'd seen, just as she dodged around what she'd experienced in his head. But did that matter? It was only a crease. The Doctor's clothes were full of creases; he didn't mind them. A crease in an otherwise perfect conversation.

Then again, Rose's clothes were hardly ever creased. And Jacqueline Tyler was her mother.

He frowned at her hands, which were criss-crossed with gashes and cuts.

"Where on earth did you get these?"

She smiled, one of those… Rose… smiles. "I was in a bit of hurry with the glue, and I never was good around glass," she said. He smiled and used traced the scars with the sonic screwdriver. They healed up. His own, from the breaking of the central column, weren't that numerous and he'd already got rid of them.

For a while meaningless banter was swapped between both of them but the Doctor knew it wouldn't last. At least this time he'd be ready. And he'd have an answer.

The inevitable came.

"Really, though, Doctor. How… how do you –"

"Cope?"

"That's the one."

"This is where we go back to where we first began," he said, and he couldn't help the resignation in his voice. "C'mon, Rose," he said, pulling a lever, ignoring the central column begin to rattle as it groaned.

"Where are we going?"

"I'm taking you home."

_**A/N: See what he means next chapter. Thanks all reviewers:) And if you are avid Dt fans you might notice those last two lines being, or being alike to the ones exchanged between David ('casanova'), and Henriet (Laura Fraser) in Casanova.**_


	7. The Letter::

**_A/N: Thanks everyone. I luff yew 3 I'm writing this chapter but I'm blissfully ignorant to what Gallifrey is actually like. I've watched a lot of old Who but haven't followed every series, so I don't know much… only that whenever I see a time lord, he or she is normally to be identified by a funny suit – a funny pyramid TARDIS (Rani) and an evil laugh (The Master). So I'm going to guess._**

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas in my head, which is true for all of us :)_**

_**PS. Sorry about the delay, and sorry I won't be updating for about a week and a half. I have to go to a house with no internet connection again o!**_

_**Reflections.Are.Slaves.To.Reality.**_

_My name is the Doctor._

_Or that's the disguise. But it's become a title, a name so much to me that it is my name. I can't remember another name like it; can't remember a birth title – I don't even know if I had one. Maybe I did. It's so far back; so many memories ago now that I've stopped remembering something as stupid as a name. Maybe that has been and always will be my title: the Doctor. Such a cold name. Telling nothing, leaving so much mystery behind it – but maybe that's how it should be. Try saying my name with feeling behind it, and it won't work. It's like calling your husband sir, or lord. It doesn't work and it never will. You can't bring emotion into such a title._

_You can't – she can._

_Anyway, this is me. I stole the TARDIS when I was still young; I had a grand daughter, who I might as well have abandoned. Old times, and yet I appeared older than I am now. Time has passed. And I have even less mercy than I did then. When I would let my friends pass by without a backward glance, and would call them assistants because I dare not lend them enough respect to equal me._

_At least, I thought I had less mercy. After the Time War I thought the only way out was solitude because nothing could ever remedy my feeling of loss for the Time Lords; my own world. I became so entangled within this feeling that when salvation stepped out in front of me at first, I didn't even recognise it._

_And then I did, and I took her aboard on my ship and my heart healed, even though I was unwilling to believe that such a salvation could have done it alone. How could she replace my people in not so much as a blink? But she had. And I was_ more_ merciful. I regained the feeling I had possessed years back, and more._

_So when she was taken away, when my liberty and freedom were stripped from me with a single scream, there was nothing. I searched. I tried to keep an open mind like I hadn't after the Time War but even with my mind open to new loves, I knew in my heart that nothing could ever replace her. I pined and I grieved and I ached, and I was so ashamed for doing so. Not because I was afraid to love a human. Because I was ashamed that a human could have had so much courage in my face, to have said the things she did, and I hadn't even managed to whisper her words back to her._

_Seven years passed and all hope had gone. _

_Until by chance, I landed on Pavar. And I saw her recording and I knew that there was some way to get her back, even if it wasn't her. Even if it was some other Rose from a different world, I had to save her. For once I had a quest in life which I couldn't have been happier to go along with. But seeing her die, seeing her be taken away from me yet again almost made me want to die. It was such a drastic notion but it was true. Something I could never do physically, but something that had most definitely happened within my soul._

_Whoever, whatever made her come back to me is something or someone who I would bless beyond the stars if I just knew how they'd revived her. My history matters, because it shapes the world but none so much of it to me than the time spent with her. It's a terrible thing to say but even my own grand daughter Susan couldn't forge a relationship with me like Rose could._

_That was my fault. My old, cold self's fault. Maybe if I'd been more willing to lend her love back we could have been happier but it's something I never did. For that, I'm sorry._

_But this leads us back the present. This leads me back to Rose… and to why I'm standing here with her on this place I can barely remember; because it hurts too much. Because it makes me angry. Because it triggers a feeling so hostile inside me that it scared even her away._

_Not. Any. More. _

_The time of secrecy is about to end, and the time of history is at hand._

_**We Do Not Die Because We Have To die; We Die Because One Day, And Not So Long Ago, Our Consciousness Was forced to Deem It Necessary – Antonin Artuad**_

Rose looked around in wonder, at the vast stretches of strangely futuristic and yet old, almost... ancient beauty and technology around her. She would only describe it as beauty itself. For a moment she was lost in it and then she turned around and saw the Doctor, and immediately he grabbed her attention. He had brought her there for a reason. But it was easy to focus her attention on him. A moment with him was never dull; tense, exciting, horrifying, tearful, wonderful or terrifying – but none of those feelings could ever be associated with the word dull.

The Doctor was life itself but something told Rose that he himself obviously didn't believe it.

He was looking into the distance with eyes that spoke volumes. They told her that he wasn't there. Not at that time. She slipped her hand in his, not just to wake him from his reverie, but to make sure that he was okay. There was no doubt in her mind now that she loved him, but she knew that it wasn't something that she could say every day of her life. Maybe it was something she wanted to say constantly, and maybe it wasn't. Her feelings were her own but he knew: and that was enough. Either way, she was there for him. She felt the need to illustrate the point.

"This is home," she said quietly, into the air which was bitter and sweet at the same time. Gallifrey as it once had been, thousands of years before the Time War. It wasn't the splendour of it that caught Rose, though, it was the magnificence of seeing something that had been dead for too many years to count.

For a moment there was silence. And then:

"No."

"What?"

"This _was_ home, Rose. Once upon a time, a long time ago. Sometimes it takes a moment to realise, but in the end, when you think about it, it's true. If I still considered this to be _home_ all I'd ever look to would be rocks and dust and oblivion. No… this isn't home."

"So where is home?" Said Rose quietly. She couldn't say she understood. But that was one thing she could understand; never expect to find an explanation behind what the Doctor said because the only way you could ever truly understand would be to have experienced all the things he had. Something she, nor any other individual could have done. Because he was unique.

For a moment the Doctor frowned, thought making his eyeballs almost go crossed like so often happened. Normally she would have laughed and even though she found it funny this time, she didn't want to. She didn't think it would have ruined anything, but the urge wasn't there.

"Maybe…" he said, like it was dawning on him; "maybe… I don't have a home." He let out a breath with his eyes wide, puffing out his cheeks and biting his lip before exhaling. "Maybe I'm _homeless_."

Rose considered for a second. And then she smiled, because she knew something for a change. For once she could tell him what was staring him in the face. Well… that happened a lot. But never in circumstances of such importance.

"Oh, I think you do," she said, and her voice was light. Because around the Doctor there was no reason to be _sad_. She knew he didn't want sympathy. He didn't even want to turn back time, of which he was perfectly capable of doing. He just wanted to live life like it was his last. She knew that remorse and regret had no place in him. Not while he had her to travel with, anyway.

Another thought from his head.

"Mm?"

"You've got the TARDIS, Doctor. You've got…"

"I've got you."

Rose didn't really want to confirm that comment unless she appeared vain. But he thought to himself for a moment and then cracked one of his biggest grins.

"Maybe I do have a home, then."

She smiled back; because although there was a long dead civilisation around them, bustling with life and activity, oblivious to Rose and the Doctor's presence, it was a moment that didn't care for that. It cared only for two people, a smile, and preserving it forever.

The moment lasted, but even the best of moments fade. And the Doctor's grin disappeared and the light in his eyes became more concentrated, until it was more of a fixed look of thought than a joyful light, and a window to the soul. "But your question still stands," he said. "None of this sorts any of that out."

Rose paused for a moment, and then she realised.

"No, it doesn't," she said shortly, shrugging. "But at the same time, I already know."

"What?"

She looked out on Gallifrey and it misted before her with her own thoughts. "I think I realised the moment you told me that you'd answer me," she said, shaking her head at the end slightly like she so often did at the end of a sentence that involved thought; "I thought: well… you obviously _don't_ cope. Look at this place – who wouldn't want to stay here – "

"I don't," interrupted the Doctor abruptly. "I've been avoiding this for so long. Never wanting to return because I was afraid it would hurt too much… but now I'm here, it doesn't hurt. If I think about it," he shrugged for a moment, "I never loved this place like I love yours. I never owned anything on it. I was looked upon as a… a… vagabond… and I stole the TARDIS. Not a good move," he added. She would have spoken then but she knew he wasn't finished.

"I fought for these people and they died next to me. But do you know what? They weren't _my_ people. I didn't own them. Half of them I didn't even know and just about all of them didn't care for me. It was just the thought of losing all that history, and all that heritage, and the thought of a whole race dying, that made it so hard to cope with. And then, I found something new. I found _you._ And you know what?"

Rose was hanging onto his every word now. Like she had on the beach with an ever hopeful look in her eyes that were beginning to burn. Always hoping to hear those words. Always having to cope with the fact he never said them – and then hoping again.

"What?"

It was just like before his regeneration. But his next words weren't the same. And she was glad, because that was one other thing she didn't want to see again.

"Losing you," he said, and his eyes weren't on her; they were distant again – but that was fine with her; "made me realise that losing Gallifrey was just a thimbleful of pain next to something that was infinite. I didn't cope, during that time you were gone. But when you returned… I forgot about everything. And compared to you…" he waved a hand vaguely at the surroundings, and now his eyes were directly on her.

"None of this matters."

She looked in his eyes and saw memories she had already witnessed in them. But they weren't just his this time; she knew and recognised them to be equally hers. Why did she always get tearful at the most crucial points in her life? But she couldn't help the tears welling up in her eyes; not of sorrow, not of joy – not even of embarrassment. It was an indescribable feeling that could only be described as anguish; but she wasn't sad. Just unbelieving he'd put her before everything else – apologetic about it.

"Doctor…"

"No, Rose. It's time I left this behind. Turned my back on it."

"In that case," she said, and didn't finish the sentence – for she was too busy reaching up to plant a small kiss on his forehead. He smiled at her. And they said simultaneously:

"Let's go."

_**If.I.Am.My.Reflection.I.Hate.Me.And.If.You.Are.Just.Another.Me.I.Love.You.**_

Rose sat the envelope on the mantel piece and looked at it with regret feeling her dark eyes. She was almost tearful again, because it was as she wandered the perfectly deserted flat that she had realised soon, it would be home to someone else, and maybe they would find her note – maybe they would read it. Maybe they would change the perfect, cluttered look it possessed. Maybe they'd take the perfectly yet imperfectly arranged pictures from the mantelpiece and the small coffee table, and wonder in their mind to whom the small box had belonged to. Whether they had died in the all famous battle of the Daleks and The Cybermen like so many. Maybe they'd stop to mourn for a moment, and then again, maybe they wouldn't. Maybe they'd also lost someone.

But she left the envelope on the mantelpiece of her living room, carefully making sure it disturbed none of the ornaments that had been sitting in a cocoon of dust the instant they had settled upon its surface. In a way she didn't even want to disturb the dust. She wanted to leave this place in the way it had always been.

She wanted her mum back. She wanted her to hang around the house and sit up all day with a cup of tea in her hands; she wanted Mickey to pop in every now and then, and she wanted to look at pictures of her father wistfully without her desires being fulfilled.

She loved them all. But she wanted life back to before Torchwood.

Some wishes are never granted and to a small degree, she suddenly understood the Doctor's new pain at the loss of his home world. And just for a fleeting second, she understood what the Doctor had said about it not being home anymore. It had once been home – when the people she loved had occupied it. But now, it was an empty flat. And without the people, the ornaments and clutter didn't carry any meaning at all.

She didn't even take a picture with her to look at. Because she didn't want to disturb it. Because even as the enlightenment came into her head, she was _not_ the Doctor. And she needed some things to stay the same. Maybe it was best that one day she'd forget their faces.

Five minutes later engines whined out of existence, and the air around the letter upon the mantelpiece rippled. The writing on its surface began to fade, almost metal away, until the paper itself looked almost transparent. Yet it was not so completely. You could still see the shadow of an envelope.

But it was almost as if it didn't fully exist any more. As if it was sharing existences with another realm – another dimension – another universe.

Rose wiped one final tear from her eye, and smiled at the Doctor.

And took the first step on her journey of moving on.

_**I.Love.You.Because.You.Are.Everything.I.Wish.To.Be.My.Carefree.Reflection.**_

_Jackie Tyler had only just heard the terrible news just a week gone and she still cried into her pillow at night – in the morning – during the day. She would walk down the stairs shaking, get a cup of tea, smash the first mug, and then get another one. She would walk back into the living room and sip as if she was in a different world entirely. Her eyes would have a vacant quality to them. She wasn't even occupying the Tyler Mansion anymore. Her flat; that stupid flat on the Powell Estate had been bought by Pete and they were renting it out. But for a while Jackie had been going back there. For exactly seven days she had lived there. Pete would moan at her to come home, and he understood her feelings – he had loved Rose, too. He wasn't her real dad but he was close and he loved her dearly. But he still insisted that going back to her old house would do Jackie no good. He would visit every night and try and persuade her to come home, but to no avail._

_On the eighth day it was different, though._

_**-o-**_

Jackie comes downstairs from bed and gets her cup of tea. She opens the blinds and the light floods in – and she'd still so jittery about her Rose, that for the fifth time in a row, the mug is broken. For the fifth time in a row, she doesn't clear it up. She steps absently over the shards in her slippered feet and boils the kettle again, no feeling in her steps; it's like she's been through cyber conversion all over again and she's just an emotionless husk. This time she doesn't drop the tea, and she sits in her place on the armchair that is nearest the mantel piece. She moves like she'd unconscious; slowly; feeling her way through the world like she can't see or hear.

For a while she just looks at the mantel piece, in her trance. She looks and she sees a vague shape that she knows shouldn't be there. Her brain registers this but it's come to a point that Jackie knows things are happening around her but she won't do anything about them.

Perhaps it's an hour before she really looks. Perhaps it's two. Either she's finally paying attention, though, or its got more solid. She can see faint shapes on it in writing she instantly recognises. Rounded letters that are neat and spaced out, even thought the person writing them was never very literate.

She thinks all this but its only five minutes later that her eyes widen and she knocks her cup of tea out of her own hand and hurries to the mantel piece and looks at the words upon what is clearly an envelope.

And then she's tearing it open so fast that she doesn't realise she's torn apart a piece of the last message she'll ever get from her daughter. She just looks at the paper inside; at the handwriting that is so familiar, and reads the words so fast they jumble and stack up in her mind.

Hours later the paper has been cried on and the ink is blurred. She puts it under her pillow – in the Tyler mansion, because she's finally returned, and sleeps peacefully even though the letter has brought on fresh pain and tears. She'll wake up with it hurting just as bad but at least she has some hope to cling to.

The letter falls from underneath the pillow as she shifts in her sleep. And the words are on show for the world to see.

_**I.Have.Something.To.Say.And.Yet.My.Reflection.Will.Never.Hear.It.**_

_Dear Mum and Dad and Mickey, if he ever finds a way home._

_I don't know if I can ever come back to earth. Not your earth, anyway. You probably know by now the Krop Tor mission failed – you were right, mum – in which case you're probably wondering how I can be writing this at all. I know I can say something and you'll believe it but what has happened is hard for even me._

_The mission may not have been a success to TORCHWOOD or to any of their cronies, or to the people who died in it, but it was for me. And you needn't worry, Mum, because I'm not writing this from beyond the grave or anything, I know what you're like. It's hard to say but when our rocket passed through that black hole we ended up in a different universe. We didn't die – not Mickey or I, anyway – we landed where I am now and got captured. I would be dead now, so you owe someone a very big apology._

_It's even harder to write this, but I landed back _home_. In our universe. In the Doctor's universe and by some wonderful miracle, I'm back with him. In the TARDIS. And the danger's out there, and so are the stars, but I've never been happier._

_You know I love you more than your worth – and I don't mean the insulting bit of that, anyway. I'm sorry, Mum. I don't know how to get back. But I want you to know that I'm not dead. I'm not alone. I'm not crying on this piece of paper because I'm hurt. I'm doing what I've always wanted to do and I'm crying because although I'm back where I always wanted to be, I'm going to miss you._

_This will probably never get to you. Not unless some miracle happens, anyway. But there's always that small chance; if there's anything I've learnt it's to believe in chance, however bad or good the situation is. So I'll leave you this in the hope that you will receive it. Otherwise, at least I've confessed what I feel to some nosey person._

_I love you. And I'll never forget you two – and I know you won't forget me. But don't cry too much… like I said, I know you too well. Live your life. And look after Jane, because I love her, too._

_Rose _

The words winged their way through the air and into space, and proved one thing that Jackie Tyler had given up on.

Miracles can happen.

_**A/N: Not quite finished. Thank you. I'm sure, after all, you all want to see one more scene with Rose and the Doctor and want me to resolve the mystery of what happened to Mickey…**_


End file.
